Waking Sam Winchester
by SamDreams
Summary: Sam and Dean find themselves in unfamiliar territory in a hotel in Chicago. One-shot. Mostly PWP. Sam/Dean first-time Wincest.


_Author's Note__:_

_This is my first Supernatural fan fic. While I never expected I would find Wincest remotely appealing, I admit it has captured my imagination and interest. If this subject is not your cup of tea, please skip this story. I love both of my boys dearly, and I sincerely hope you enjoy my version of them in this story._

_** __WARNINGS__: WINCEST-including explicit sexual content; language._

_I own no rights to these characters or the show _Supernatural_. I only own the right to imagine my boys doing all sorts of wild and crazy things and then write about it purely for fun and entertainment._

_Reviews and constructive criticism welcomed. Thank you for your interest, and for taking the time to read my story._

**~~Waking Sam Winchester~~**

Chicago, IL

Dean woke slowly to a delicious scent. When his eyes fluttered open, he realized his face was buried in his brother's thick hair. The warmth from Sam's body flooded through him and he noted that his entire length was pressed up against Sam's back. While he'd slept, his arm had wrapped around Sam's waist. Then he registered the fact that the weight of Sam's arm covered his own, and he felt Sam's fingers intertwined with his.

The feel of his nude body spooned up against his brother's sent adrenalin rocketing through his body with the force of a freight train. How did they end up here? Where were his clothes?

Memory rushed back. Right, the vampires. The blood-suckers had attacked the brothers just outside Mother Hubbard's bar at five o'clock in the morning. The boys had stumbled out of the bar after closing the place down and were headed toward their hotel when they got jumped.

The rest was a still a bit of a blur, but he did remember that he and Sam had made it back to the hotel covered in blood. Glancing down, he didn't see any blood. None on Sam, either. Then he remembered. Shower. They had taken a shower. His brow furrowed as he let that play through his head again. Two showers? Or had they showered together? No, he realized. Only one shower. Together.

Dean's face heated from a deep blush at the realization. Maybe Sam won't remember any of it, he thought. Sam stirred as if he had heard Dean's thoughts and slid over onto his back. As he did, their arms changed position and Dean found his hand resting on Sam's warm cock. Warmer than usual because it was hard with a morning erection, Dean noticed. Sam's arm that had been resting on Dean's was still positioned so that it held Dean's hand in place.

He waited for Sam's eyes to open, and for his brother to be as shocked as he was. Sam stayed asleep, his breathing deep and even. Dean decided to fake sleep until he could figure out the best way to handle this situation. He very carefully positioned himself against Sam again, resting his head on Sam's chest. He listened to the steady thud of his brother's heartbeat against his ear.

It struck him suddenly that this didn't feel as horrifying as it probably should. His brother's chest was warm and inviting, and Dean felt comfortable snuggled up against Sam's long, lean body. Really comfortable. Sam smelled wonderful. He breathed in the scent of the hotel's rosemary ginger soap and tried to remember their shower together. They had both been drinking heavily at the bar. Dean marveled at the fact they had made it to the hotel in one piece, in fact. Flashes of his own soapy hands running over Sam's wet back tripped through his brain. He blushed again, not because it had happened, but because he realized then just how badly he wanted it to happen again. This time, he wanted to be completely sober.

Dean moved his fingers to encircle Sam's shaft and held it still like that for several moments. Sam didn't stir. Dean found himself unable to resist sliding his fingers up and down Sam's cock. It matched Sam's size well. It wasn't too large, but it was impressive in its length and girth. Perfect size, Dean thought.

Dean closed his eyes and breathed deeply as if asleep; but his fingers kept moving very softly up and down. After only a couple of minutes, Sam let out a very soft moan and shifted slightly, bringing his hips upward against Dean's hand. Sam's heartbeat changed dramatically then. The slow, steady thump-thump became a knocking so frantic and fierce that Dean feared his brother might actually go into cardiac arrest. Dean felt Sam's entire body go rigid from head to toe. But Dean stayed perfectly still, feigning sleep, and let his fingers continue their work.

"Dean?" The whisper was so soft that, even as close as his head was to Sam's mouth, Dean almost didn't hear it.

Dean ignored it and kept up his slow, gentle stroking, never changing pace. Sam's breathing got heavier. Dean watched as clear fluid seeped from the head of Sam's cock and dripped onto his stomach. He wanted to lean down and lick it so badly, but he dared not move and break the spell.

"Oh my God," came another whisper so soft that if Dean hadn't really been awake he wouldn't have heard it. Dean couldn't tell if this was Sam's reaction to the entire situation, or if it was an indication of pleasure. Maybe it was both.

"Dean?" This time the whisper was louder. Dean decided to take a chance. He moved his hand down to Sam's balls and fondled them, letting his forefinger trail downward into his crack, then brought his hand back up to resume stroking. This time he applied more pressure. Sam made an appreciative noise that was something between a groan and whimper and brought his hand up to stroke Dean's hair.

Dean had stroked him for several long minutes, teasing with soft strokes, then more firm grips, until Sam had trouble catching his breath. Finally, he whispered back, "Sammy." His hand never stopped its movement. Sam's dick felt like a satin-covered iron rod. Precome leaked freely from its tip, and Dean's fingers were slick with it, coating his brother's entire shaft with every stroke. "Do you want me to stop?"

Another moan escaped Sam's lips. Dean knew his brother well enough to imagine the mental torment roiling around in that gorgeous head of his. After only a moment's hesitation, Sam arched his hips against Dean's hand again. "No. Please."

Dean let himself go then. Without further hesitation, he leaned forward and sucked his brother's hard length into his mouth. He reveled in the salty taste. Gently playing with Sam's balls, Dean plunged his mouth downward until he had swallowed every inch. Sam's cock pressed into his throat and Dean found himself wanting more. He wanted to feel the orgasm pouring out of it, wanted to taste every drop.

Sam's brain short-circuited at the feel of his cock pressing into Dean's throat. How many times had he imagined this? How many times had he fought arousal watching his brother walk around hotel rooms shirtless? He'd lost count of the occasions he'd had to hide his crotch from view because his cock had responded to Dean walking into the room freshly showered, hair dripping, wearing nothing but a towel. And now his hand ran across Dean's strong shoulder and down his back, and everything he had dreamed about for so long was happening. It was far better than he had imagined.

When Dean's tongue slithered upward along the underside of his cock, Sam let out a tortured grunt. "Deep. Suck it deep."

Dean circled the head of Sam's cock, pressing his hot tongue into the slit there. "No."

"Please."

"Please what?" Dean asked, and very lightly trailed his teeth across the sensitive tip.

Sam groaned loudly. "Ohhh, God. Dean, please. I need to come."

"How?"

"I want you to make me come."

"How?"

Sam half-laughed and half-growled at his brother. "Suck my cock!"

"What's the magic word?" Dean slurped the mushroom tip into his mouth and then let it pop back out again.

"You fucking bastard!"

"Nope, that's not it." Dean chuckled then and flicked his tongue up and down Sam's shaft again, very lightly, then gave it a squeeze with his strong fingers.

"Say it, Sam."

"Please. Jesus Christ, please. Suck my cock and make me come."

Dean drove his mouth downward over Sam's thick cock again and Sam threw his head back against the pillows. "Yes. God, yes."

Using his hand and his mouth in tandem, Dean picked up the rhythm and worked Sam's cock until Sam was whimpering and begging incoherently. "Oh…oh…like that…yes…"

And then Sam's entire body convulsed and he bowed backwards, forcing his cock deep into Dean's throat. The rush of hot fluid jetted into Dean's mouth, more than he expected. He had to work to swallow it all, and it seemed to keep coming even after he'd swallowed twice. He let Sam's spent cock rest in his mouth until it softened completely, just holding it there. His fingers found Sam's balls again and he stroked them affectionately as his brother caught his breath.

After several minutes, Dean shifted and sat up. Neither of them moved or said anything for quite some time. When Dean finally managed to look at his brother, he found Sam's sincere eyes studying him with wonder. He sighed very softly and prepared himself for the inevitable over-analyzing that was sure to come his way the moment Sam said a word.

He was completely stunned when Sam whispered, "Your turn."

**~~THE END~~**


End file.
